The Prank That Delivered
by Nevillle's Cardigan
Summary: My first fanfic. Written for the Clue Prank Competition. Fred and George are getting sick of the Slytherins and try to lighten the mood with a prank but when it ends badly for them, they pull off something even bigger and better as revenge.
1. Pay Attention

**AN: This is my first fanfic so I'm sorry if it's not the best but constructive criticism would be appreciated :) I know the chapters are quite short, but its just where they end best and I do update fast hehee :) I'd love to hear what you all think. Thanks for reading!**

**Written for the Clue Prank Competition. Prompts: Oliver Wood, Relashio and Hogsmeade Post Office.  
><strong>

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

**The Prank That Delivered, Chapter 1: Pay Attention  
><strong>

Fred and George had quidditch practice for the fifth time that week. They were hoping to get the night off as it was the last Friday before the October half term holiday but with their match against Slytherin only a few days away, their team captain Oliver Wood had become more relentless than ever.

Tonight was the worst night of the week. As well as having to practice whilst the rest of the Gryffindors were holding a party in the common room, the weather was the worst it had been all week. Sheets of rain sliced through the air like knife blades, soaking the team to their skin in a matter of seconds and plastering their dripping hair to the sides of their heads. The wind whipped around them, faster and faster as their brooms rose up cautiously into the air. A mist was creeping steadily over them, as was darkness. Visibility became so poor that George nearly hit Harry over the head when he mistook him for a bludger.

Oliver reluctantly called off the practice when he realised they were all struggling to keep themselves on their brooms and none of them could see any further than a few inches in front of their face. Amplifying his voice with his wand, he yelled across the pitch for his team to return to the changing rooms.

Sighing with relief Fred and George lowered their brooms to the ground and hastily dismounted, hurrying towards the warmth of the changing rooms.

'It's gonna take more than a few warming charms before I'll be able to feel my toes tonight.' George muttered to Fred, gesturing to his mud-caked feet.

Fred nodded in agreement, his teeth chattering too much for him to reply. As they waded through the vast muddy puddle that the ground had now become they both thought longingly of the cosy Gryffindor common room with its inviting fire and snug armchairs, where they hoped they would soon be heading.

Much to the team's disappointment though, it seemed that Oliver wanted to continue to train but by talking through tactics rather than in the practical sense. When they had made their way through the murky fog and entered the changing rooms it was to see that Oliver had created a complex diagram of the quidditch pitch with lots of different dots and squiggles moving rapidly over the paper in complicated patterns.

Fred and George slumped in their seats, preparing for a long-winded speech during which Oliver would exhaust them with the large number of sequences of moves they were supposed to learn off by heart.

About ten minutes in, George was beginning to get some of the feeling back in his fingers, but boredom had now set in and he felt his eyelids drooping slowly. He jerked them open again when he felt Fred's head lolling heavily onto his shoulder. He quickly tried to shake him awake before Oliver noticed, but Fred was not happy about being disturbed and started mumbling incoherently, as he looked around, frowning grumpily. Hearing him, Oliver whirled around to face the team and noticed that most of them were either falling asleep or trying not to.

'Weasley!' He yelled, making all of them jump. 'Johnson!' He continued to shout, anger towards his fellow teammates filling him. 'Pay attention.' He bellowed. 'I did not spend five hours coming up with our game plan for the Slytherin match so you could all take a nap instead of concentrating on exactly how we are going to knock them slimy leaches off the top spot and claim the trophy for the Gryffindors!'

'We know, we want to win too. It's just that... its late, we're cold, wet and tired and we've missed the party.' George reasoned.

'I don't care!' Oliver spat, brushing off Alicia as she tried to calm him. 'If you want to go to the party next time, you'll have to leave the team.' With that he spun around and stalked off, only looking back when he reached the door. 'I expect you all here at 9am tomorrow. Don't be late.' He growled over his shoulder before slamming the door on all of them.

The team looked around at each other, slightly shocked by Oliver's outburst but, too worn out to do anything about it; they swiftly got changed and headed back up to the castle without a word, each of them wondering what tomorrow's quidditch practice would have in store for them.


	2. Scarlet And Emerald

**AN: This is my first fanfic so I'm sorry if it's not the best but constructive criticism would be appreciated :) I know the chapters are quite short, but its just where they end best and I do update fast hehee :) I'd love to hear what you all think. Thanks for reading!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

**The Prank That Delivered, Chapter 2: Scarlet and Emerald  
><strong>

The next morning Oliver wasn't at breakfast. The rest of the Gryffindor team were sat at the table steadily munching their way through bacon sandwiches and porridge, when Fred and George arrived.

'Where's Oliver?' Fred asked as he took a seat next to Angelina.

'We reckon he's already at the pitch.' Angelina replied with a small smile.

'Well, let's hope he's calmed down after yesterday.' Fred verbalized his thoughts, returning her smile.

'Not likely though, is it mate?' George grimaced. Katie shook her head dejectedly.

'Well even if he hasn't the match is in two days time. After we win, Oliver will definitely be more relaxed.' Fred tried to transfer his positivity on to the others.

'You know Fred, I think that's the first time I've ever heard the words Oliver and relaxed in the same conversation, let alone sentence.' George joked. Their teammates grinned as they headed out through the entrance all, their spirits lifted by the twin's good humour and the cloudless sky that had followed last night's storm.

When they arrived at the pitch, hoping futilely to find an enthusiastic and cheerful team captain, they were greeted with the sight of seven burly, green-robed figures marching across the pitch towards them. They watched the Slytherin team, strutting threateningly in their direction, then glanced at each other, confusion etched on their faces.

They turned around when they heard Oliver approach behind them. 'What are you all doing stood around here?' He sighed impatiently 'Why aren't you–'

He stopped short when he caught sight of the Slytherin team. 'I don't believe this.' He muttered angrily as he pushed the Gryffindors aside and stomped off towards their rivals.

'What are you lot doing here?' Oliver spat at the Slytherin quidditch captain Marcus Flint. Oliver was a few inches shorter than Flint, but was strongly built and had broader shoulders.

Flint sneered at him, the expression unattractive on his ugly face 'We have permission to be here.' his voice dripped with ice.

Oliver drew himself up to his full height and raised an eyebrow threateningly at his enemy 'Really? I believe it was actually me who booked the pitch for this session, Flint.' His strong accent made the words even more menacing.

'We'll see about that, won't we?' Flint snarled, dropping his broom and stepping towards Oliver, only to be pulled back by a thick-necked fifth-year on his right. Flint shook him off and continued past Oliver up toward the castle. The fifth-year pursued him, also leaving his broom behind and the rest of the Slytherin team followed suit. Oliver marched along side, flanked by the Gryffindor team.

Fred and George ambled behind, they had been hoping to leave an impression of their knuckles in Flint's face, but the opportunity had passed. However, when one door closes, another opens and Fred and George couldn't resist the opportunity the Slytherins had left behind for them:

A couple of abandoned Slytherin broomsticks lay propped up by the changing rooms and three more remained discarded on the floor, where Flint and his fellow team members had thrown them down in anger.

While waiting until the procession of scarlet and emerald clad quidditch players was a good distance away with their backs turned; an idea formed in George's had. An impish grin spread over his face. He turned to Fred, his eyes glinting with mischief, 'Are you thinking what I'm thinking Gred?'

'I am if you're thinking we ought to give those snakes exactly what they deserve Forge?' Fred replied, an identical grin on his face. They hurried over to where the brooms lay, pulling out their wands. George approached the first one and muttered a simple spell, cursing it so that it would bite anyone that touched it. It was a charm he and Fred had invented themselves (and used on their nose-biting teacups) so few people knew how to fix it and certainly not a bunch of brawny, brainless Slytherins.

In a few seconds Fred and George had managed to curse all of the brooms and hurriedly made their way along the path; tagging along on the back of the group without too much suspicion. They grinned knowingly when they caught Angelina's eye and although she knew they had been up to something, she remained quiet and merely smiled to herself at their mischievous grins, finding it endearing that they risked punishment to get revenge on behalf of her and the team.

However, Oliver also caught the look and was not as lenient as Angelina. He frowned slightly, wondering what they were up to and keeping this concern in mind in case anything unexplained and comical happened to the Slytherin team. For now though, he kept quiet as they all made their way through the castle doors to find Madam Hooch.


	3. Biting Broomsticks

**AN: This is my first fanfic so I'm sorry if it's not the best but constructive criticism would be appreciated :) I know the chapters are quite short, but its just where they end best and I do update fast hehee :) I'd love to hear what you all think. Thanks for reading!**

**I would like to say thankyou to skaterofthebooks for being my beta :D and to meltedhappiness for the reviews and helpful constructive criticism :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

**The Prank that Delivered, Chapter 3: Biting Brommsticks  
><strong>

Oliver sat at the window seat in the entrance hall, a glum look on his face as he gazed out across the grounds at the quidditch pitch. Madam Hooch had given the Slytherins permission to practice reasoning that the Gryffindors had already practiced that morning. She had, however, allowed them to practice tomorrow morning before the match tomorrow afternoon, so that was something. Oliver was still downcast about with this arrangement though. The Slytherins already had better brooms than them, they didn't need to become better flyers as well or the Gryffindors chances decreased even more.

Shaking the negative thoughts from his said, he chanted silently to himself, over and over like a mantra. Gryffindor can win, Gryffindor will win. Gryffindor can win, Gryffindor will win. Gryffindor can -.

'Hey Oliver, We've got something to show you.' The twins were sauntering along the corridor towards him, identical smug smiles on their faces.

'We reckon it might cheer you up.' Fred smirked knowingly.

'Follow us.' George commanded, answering Oliver's inquisitive look.

Curiously Oliver trailed after the two red-headed boys as they set off across the grounds towards the quidditch pitch. When they reached the pitch, instead of going out onto the field, they headed around the back of the stands, so they could see clearly see the pitch but they themselves were hidden from view.

'What's going on?' Oliver was in no mood for the twins' games 'What are we doing here?' He asked enquiringly. He had wanted to spend some time brainstorming ideas for possible game plans, but he was grateful to them for trying to cheer him up.

'You'll see in a minute.' George told him, excitement in his voice, oblivious to Oliver's annoyance at the enigmatic answer.

'Humph!' Oliver huffed but folded his arms in a resigned fashion, wanting to see what it was the twins had up their sleeve.

'Aha!' Fred's cry made the other two jump. 'There they are.' He raised his arm, pointing towards a huddle of emerald figures making their out of the changing rooms and on to the pitch.

When Oliver realised it was the Slytherin quidditch team come back out to continue their practice, he was outraged; 'You brought me here to spy! That is low, even for you two. I would have thought that as Gryffindors-'

His furious rant was cut off by George holding up a finger and stating calmly 'We won't be spying as they're not going to be playing quidditch.'

Now Oliver was confused 'But they got the pitch to practice...' He stuttered 'Of course they'll be playing quidditch...why wouldn't they?'

'Ah, you'll sound find out. Just wait and see.' Fred responded mysteriously.

Oliver sighed but watched as the Slytherins made their way back towards their brooms.

Malfoy swaggered forward, a smug smile on his face, probably because he felt he was one up over the Gryffindors. He bent to pick up his broom but no sooner had his hand closed around the wooden handle than he let out a yell and jumped backwards clutching his hand. The hidden trio heard him curse loudly then, as he went to inspect his hand, they were rewarded with the site of a large red bite mark in the middle of Malfoy's palm. He emitted a few more choice swearwords then he attempted to pick up his broom with his other hand only to receive two bites this time; one on his finger and one on the heel of his thumb.

He pulled out his wand and began reciting any anti-jinx spells he could think of. Testing the broom again after, only to earn another few bites as none of his attempts were working.

The twins stifled guffaws at the dumbfounded look on Malfoy's face. By now the rest of the team had also received bites, yet they persevered with the spells and continued to try and pick up their brooms, until soon most of their hands and arms were covered with swollen red marks.

Malfoy suggested using dragon hide gloves, but as none of them had any with them, they attempted to pick up their brooms with their robes wrapped around their hands, but this only resulted in the brooms biting holes through the fabric and sinking their teeth into flesh.

'They're not the brightest bunch, are they?' Fred sniggered and he and George burst into laughter and had to leave before they gave themselves away.

'To be fair, they did try.' George gave the Slytherins some credit 'Shame only we know the counter curse eh?' He chuckled

'That was priceless.' Fred chortled as they headed back up the hill 'Did you see their faces Oliver?' He snorted with laughter. 'Oliver?'

The twins turned round to see a stony-faced Oliver stood behind them.

'C'mon that was funny.' Fred cajoled but Oliver still looked as serious as ever.

'As much as I did love to see Malfoy and the rest of the team get what they deserve' (the twins grinned simultaneously) 'I can't believe you did that.' He shook his head in disappoint at them, then brushed past them and carried on walking.

'What?' The twins were stunned 'Oliver, wait!' They cried, hurrying to catch up with him, annoyance and betrayal now etched on their faces.

'What do you mean?' Fred was shocked.

'When McGonagall figures out it was you, after the warning she gave you last week, she'll kick you off the team or ban you from the next match and then how will we defeat Slytherin when were two beaters down!' He barked, then stormed off.

Fred and George were stunned. They hadn't thought about the consequence of their actions. Usually they weren't caught and if they were, they were only subjected to a couple of detentions. The idea that they could be chucked of the team had never even crossed their minds.

'They wouldn't do that would they?' Fred tried to convince himself.

George just looked at him, horror set on both their faces as they realise that's exactly what would happen.


	4. Unbearable

**AN: This is my first fanfic so I'm sorry if it's not the best but constructive criticism would be appreciated :) I know the chapters are quite short, but it's just where they end best and I do update fast hehee :) I'd love to hear what you all think. Thanks for reading!**

**I would like to say thankyou to skaterofthebooks for being a wonderful beta :D you are much appreciated!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter**

**The Prank That Delivered, Chapter 4: Unbearable**

And that was indeed exactly what happened. Malfoy and the rest of the team went running to Professor Snape, blaming it on the Gryffindors. Snape whole-heartedly went along with the Slytherins' account of the events but, however much he wanted to, he couldn't punish the Gryffindors as they weren't in his house. So he told Professor McGonagall what had happened and she realised that it was Fred and George, having seen the results of their handiwork enough times before.

Then true to the warning she had given them last week when they gave ton-tongue toffees (another of their own inventions) to a group of Hufflepuff first years, making Madam Pomfrey spend five hours trying to shrink all their tongues back to normal, she banned them from their next quidditch match.

Fred and George were absolutely gutted. They had a chance to wipe that famous smirk off Malfoy's face and knock the Slytherins down a peg or two by crushing them in the match; and maybe aiming a couple of bludgers towards their heads at the same time. Now all they could do was watch on from the stands and scream themselves hoarse with directions at whoever was replacing them.

The Gryffindor team tried to find reasonably satisfactory beaters to substitute Fred and George, but the only people willing to play were Colin Creevey and Cormac McLaggen. Cormac was a reasonable quidditch player, although not a natural beater, but Colin only wanted to spend more time with Harry and decided to track Harry and only protect him, so it was no big surprise that the Gryffindors lost.

Although the Gryffindors were angry at Fred and George, as their loss took them out of the running for the quidditch cup, it was nothing to how they felt towards Malfoy. He had taken it upon himself to constantly remind anyone who would listen; and even those who wouldn't, of how the Gryffindors lost, and how it was down to his incredible skill and talent that Slytherin won. The Gryffindors were furious as they knew that Malfoy only managed to catch the snitch because Cormac had accidentally hit Harry with a bludger when aiming for Malfoy.

Malfoy started strutting around the school like he owned the place; the recent victory having swelled his already over-sized ego. He constantly tormented the other houses and arrogantly reminded them that he was richer, purer-blooded, smarter, better-looking and now better at quidditch than them. The insults flew out of his mouth like water from a tap.

Harry had always thought that Potions was unbearable and couldn't get any worse for Ron, Hermione and himself. He was now proved wrong; Snape was also very smug about the Slytherin triumph, so let Malfoy and the other Slytherins rub it in. The whole Slytherin house acted superior and conceited for the rest of the week.

The final straw though, was when Malfoy and his brainless cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, cornered Hermione in the library. When she stood up to them and told them that they weren't any better than anyone else, they became aggressive.

They ripped up her parchment and books, tossing the torn sheets through the air so that they fluttered far and wide, like large yellow snowflakes, covering the library in a light blanket when they landed. Malfoy smashed an ink bottle over her head, crushing it in the palm of his hand so that shards of glass of droplets of jet black ink rained down on Hermione. At this point she rached the end of her tether so, rules or no rules, she pulled out her wand on him. Jabbing his chest with it so forcefully some small red sparks were emittted, she snarled a few choice words in a threatening manner and accompanied it with a mencaing expression until Malfoy and his friends scarpered.

Hermione was found three hours later in the girls' bathroom, where she had tried to heal her wounds. She was taken back to the Gryffindor common room where, although she insisted there was no need to inform Professor McGonagall (mostly because she didnt want her favourite Professor to be dissapointed that she had turned her wand on another student) Ron persuaded her that she should at least visit the hospital wing. She tried to make it seem as unimportant as possible and was adamant that she was not upset, but the rest of the Gryffindors were in uproar.

How dare Malfoy use violence on someone just because they stood up to him? How did he have the audacity to injure a girl, someone who was physically weaker than he was? How dare he say that he was better than Hermione when she was much smarter, kinder and braver than her would ever be? Her blood was exactly the same colour as his and if anything, Hermione was purer than Malfoy because she hadn't been poisoned with such prejudice beliefs.

It made them sick.

Fred and George stood in the corner of the common room, listening to the conversations around them as people offered countless insults at Malfoy and listed the things they would like to see done to him. They vowed that they wouldn't let this happen again.

'I think that it's time we redeemed ourselves and taught Malfoy a lesson.' Fred winked at George, a wicked grin stretching across his face.

'Definitely Fred,' George smirked and an identical grin appeared on his face. 'After all, what harm can it do? We can't win the quidditch cup anyway so we'll have to make ourselves known some other way,' he grinned.

And so while the rest of the Gryffindors continued to rant and rave and Hermione was taken to the hospital wing, with the almost believable excuse that she had tripped with an ink bottle in her hand. Fred and George sat huddled in their dormitory, heads bent closely together as they prepared a cunning plan.

This time they were going to make sure Malfoy really got what he deserved.


	5. Perfect Timing

**AN: Hey thanks for reading! This is my first fanfic so sorry it's not the best, but constructive criticism is appreciated :D Again I'm sorry for the short chapters. Oh and I don't know if I mentioned but this story is for the Clue Prank Challenge, you should all go check it out!**

**Thanks again to my lovely beta skaterofthebooks :)**

**The Prank That Delivered, Chapter 5: Perfect Timing**

Three days later the day of the Hogsmeade trip arrived and Fred and George were ready to put their ingenious plan into action. They hadn't minded Malfoy's high and mighty attitude and smug insults as much; if anything it only fuelled their incentive more as they added to their plan, determined to shut the obnoxious ferret up once and for all. When they saw him bullying first year Hufflepuffs, or surrounded by his cackling cronies at breakfast, they were instantly cheered up by the thought of how he wouldn't be laughing quite so much after their cunning scheme took place.

On the morning of the trip, they got up very early in order to make sure they got to Hogsmeade on time. After a hurried breakfast and a thorough check to make sure they had everything that they needed, they were on their way.

When they were positive they had everything with them, they left the great hall and stepped through the creaking oak doors. When who should they see coming round the corner but their victim himself, looking as snooty and stuck up as ever, perfect timing.

They strolled down the narrow corridor towards him and saw him waving his wand around as he gestured to the herd of Slytherins who were hanging onto his every word. George brushed past him, bumping his shoulder and knocking his wand out of his hand. It fell with a clatter and rolled to land at Fred's feet.

'Watch where you're going...' Malfoy spat, but the words died in his throat when he turned around and saw the Weasley twins towering over him. He was aware that he was not exactly their favourite person at the moment after the quidditch match, the Hermione incident and all of the gloating. Although he could not fathom why these blood traitors cared about that Mudblood?

'Maybe you should watch where _you're_ going' Fred said frostily, thrusting his wand back at him. They turned and walked of, pleased at how intimidated Malfoy had been by them and excited to put their plan into action.

To cover their tracks and make sure they weren't caught they had decided to take the passage through the one-eyed witch that led straight to Honeydukes' cellar. They tapped the witch's back and muttered 'Dissendium.' Then, checking nobody was around, they crawled through the small gap, sliding down the narrow chute to the dark passage.

'Lumos' They both whispered, scuttling along the sinister path, straining their ears for any sound other than the drip, drip, drip of water droplets, running down the mouldy walls and splashing onto the damp floor. About half way along, their nostrils were assaulted by a dank musty stench so they scurried faster, holding their noses.

After a while the tunnel seemed to get airier and drier and they could feel the floor sloping upwards beneath their feet. In the distance they could hear peals of laughter, the clinking of coins and the tinkle of the bell above the shop entrance. They soon reached the trap door.

Upon entering Honeydukes' cellar they slipped swiftly up the creaky staircase into the crowded shop where they could blend in among the swarms of Hogwarts students. They spotted Malfoy over by a stand of sugar quills, smirking as he and his dim-witted friends, Crabbe and Goyle, crabbed handfuls of sweets and chocolate, their faces alight with glee at the thought of stuffing their faces.

They waddled over to the till, laden down with piles of tasty treats. Malfoy fumbled in his bag, looking for his money, as the shop assistant glowered disapprovingly at them over the counter. When he couldn't find it, he started pulling things out of his bag; scraps of parchment, a large broken quill, a small letter with an address scrawled on the front in green ink; until he found the bag of coins and laid it down on the desk with a loud clank.

'Good' Fred murmured to George 'He's still got the letter.'

'C'mon, let's go before he spots us.' George whispered back urgently and the two of them wound their way through the hordes of students towards the door. They heard the bell tinkle behind them as they pushed through the door and strolled through the heaps of mushy, golden leaves lining the pavements towards the Hogsmeade Post Office.


	6. Hogsmeade Post Office

**AN: Here's chapter six, again sorry it's really really short but I shall have the next chapter up in a couple of days and I'm hoping it's not too much of a cliff-hanger for you. As always thanks for reading and thankyou to skaterofthebooks for being my beta :) Enjoy!**

**The Prank That Delivered, Chapter 6: Hogsmeade Post Office**

The Post Office was a crumbling, peeling building that had obviously once been quite grand. Fred and George hid behind one of the many grubby pillars, which just about held up the roof jutting out lopsidedly over the pavement. Casting Disillusionment Charms on themselves, they tiptoed inside, out of the biting wind.

The inside of the post office consisted of a large, wooden counter running along the back of the room covered with scraps of parchment, assorted quills and heaps of oddly shaped parcels. Behind the counter lay shelves filled with bags of owl treats and posters advertising discounted prices of owls to certain destinations. Every other inch of the remaining walls, from shoulder height all the way up to the round skylight in the high ceiling, were covered with owl perches, most of them occupied. Owls of all different breeds, shapes, colours and sizes were bound by a metal chain, linking them all together and keeping them by their numbered posts.

A powerful stench hit Fred and George as they sidled over to the far corner. It rose from the flagstone floor, which was littered with clumps of hay, owl droppings and parcel string, attacking their nostrils vigorously. A bony, straw-haired witch, who's large, round glasses and small, sharp nose made her look remarkably like an owl herself, emerged from a door behind the counter. She plodded slowly up and down the room, muttering to herself as she shuffled things around on the counter, clearly searching for something.

George and Fred waited with impatiently for her to leave; Malfoy could be here soon and they hadn't got everything ready! 'Hurry up' Fred silently urged the scrawny witch, who didn't look like she didn't anything in a hurry. George glanced out the window. Eventually the witch's leisurely movements stopped and she picked up a piece of crinkled parchment, pausing to read it. 'C'mon' George murmured softly 'We haven't got all day!' Fred sighed in frustration as George looked out the window again, checking that Malfoy wasn't on his way already.

Having clearly found what she wanted, the owl-like witch made her way back through the door, still muttering to herself. Fred and George simultaneously breathed a sigh of relief. Then looking around to check nobody else was there, their faces lit up with mischievous smirks, their moment of panic immediately forgotten.

Fred pointed his wand at an extremely large pack of owl treats that stood on a wonky shelf, covered in sawdust. Whispering 'Wingardium Leviosa', he made the packet slowly rise and waved it in front of the owls, taunting them. Then when nearly every owl's eyes were locked on the large swaying carton, he raised it even higher until it floated high above them, in the centre of the room.

Still keeping his wand on the owl treats Fred slowly backed into a corner. Looking over in the general direction of George, who was crouched in a corner on the other side of the room, he nodded, 'Ready George?'

'Ready Freddie' George replied, his wand raised 'And now we wait' He whispered.

'And now we wait' repeated Fred in an undertone.


	7. Relashio!

**AN: Here's chapter seven! Thanks for all of the reviews :) Hope everyone likes where I'm going with the storyline. As always I don't own Harry Potter. Thanks for reading and enjoy!**

**A note from my beta: Hi all, I am very and sincerely sorry for the wait, but life was going on and I wasn't able to look it over, then I couldn't look at it, and yeah... But please don't be mad at our wonderful author, but at me, because they put this chapter up very quick and then I prolonged it being put on the site. Again I am very, very sorry.  
><strong>

**The Prank That Delivered, Chapter 7: Relashio!**

Malfoy glanced at his watch and stood up, draining his glass of butterbeer as he did so. He felt the liquid run down his throat and warm his insides. He said goodbye to his friends, then walked towards the exit, wrapping his cloak around him tightly in preparation for the chilly autumn wind that had picked up recently. Even his cloak couldn't keep the bitter breeze at bay though, as he stepped out the door.

The harsh air nipped at Malfoy's face and attacked his lungs as he breathed. The cold had turned his nose and cheeks a rosy pink, which stood out on his pale face. His hair whipped around his head, strands being pulled by the wind like puppet strings. Lowering his head and securing his cloak even more tightly, he strode swiftly down the street.

His long legs enabled him to walk quickly, but his confident stride faltered when the post office came into view as he remembered exactly why he was here. Normally, he would send letters to his mother using his own owl, but as the last three letters had been sent back to him unopened, he had decided to use an owl his parents wouldn't recognise and hope that his mother would open it when his father wasn't around so she at last was able to hear how he was doing.

He wanted to tell her all about the quidditch match he had won, wanted his parents to be proud of him for beating the Gryffindors. He was certainly proud of himself for that incredible feat. He had tremendously enjoyed winding the Gryffindors up about it and was anticipating even more fun when the Slytherin team inevitably won the quidditch cup.

His signature smirk graced his features as he picked up his step and headed up the hill, longing to be out of the raw cold.

Fred craned his neck to peer out of the grimy round window. Glimpsing a tall figure strolling swiftly up the road huddled in his cloak; he turned to George and hissed 'He's coming! Get ready'

Malfoy opened the door, noticing the overpowering stink first, then the hundreds upon hundreds of owls lining the walls. He sauntered assertively up to the counter, rubbing his hands together in a futile attempt to warm them. He cleared his throat and drummed his fingers on the desk impatiently, the letter already in his hand.

Fred tapped his wand twice against the wall, signalling to George that he was about to cast his spell. George quietly tapped his wand as well, indicating he was ready. Malfoy turned at the sudden noise, wondering where it had come from, but before he could even begin to look around the room:

'Relashio!' Fred cried, directing his wand at the bag of owl treats. Scarlet sparks shot out of his wand and hit the packet. It instantly exploded; owl treats rained down on Malfoy's head, clinging to his hair and clothes. He whirled round to where the voice had come from.

'What the–?' He spluttered, but was cut off by another voice;

'Relashio!' It was George who shouted this time, his wand aimed at the chain that bound the owls to their perches. There was an incredibly loud clanking noise as every link of the chain burst open simultaneously, followed by a whoosh as at least a hundred owls descended on Malfoy, desperate to get their beaks on the owl treats.

Malfoy turned ashen in shock and opened his mouth in a silent scream as he received a faceful of feathers, beaks and talons. He stood frozen in astonishment, a look of alarm on his face. Then his brain seemed to catch up with him and a tremor shook through his body as he swivelled round and pelted as fast as he could out the door, a few dozen owls followed him in a flurry of beating wings and a few high-pitched screeches. Fred and George could hear Malfoy's girly screams for help as he sprinted down the street.

Still under the Disillusionment Charms, they headed out of the post office, rolling with laughter, just as a pinched-face witch, with glasses, appeared from around the door behind the counter, wandering why the usually subdued post office was suddenly full of noise.

They followed Malfoy down the road, catching up with him as he neared the village, by now most of the owls had flown off but there was still a couple flapping alongside his heading, darting forward every now and then to peck at the treats on his shoulders and in his hair. Malfoy flinched every time one of them shot towards him. Several angry red marks were scattered over his ears and neck where their beaks had caught and nipped him.

He was running full pelt right down the middle of the street with, unknown to him, Fred and George hot on his tail. He gasped for breath, taking in a harsh lungful of the biting air. The wind whipped his cloak from his body, so it streamed out behind him, cascading down his back, the hem rippling in the wind like it had a life of its own. His long legs carried him quickly over the sodden ground, the wind whistling in his red ears as he zoomed by until-

BAM! He ran straight into an invisible wall, or so it seemed. The force of it sent him flying backwards; he lay sprawled out on the mushy patchwork of leaves, the wind knocked out of him. His visions blurred and an aching dizziness erupted inside his head as he slowing lost consciousness.

The few remaining owls pecked around for the last few treats, then, on the discovery that there was none left, they flew off up the winding road, the sound of their beating wings echoing through the silence.


	8. Dizziness

**AN: Sorry I took so long to update, life has been very busy! I'll have more time over the next couple of weeks so updates should be a bit faster now (they need to be as the closing date is Halloween :P) Again, thanks to my beta, skaterofthebooks and thanks all you lovely readers who have reviewed or added this story to your alerts; it makes me very happy :D Enjoy!**

**The Prank That Delivered, Chapter 8: Dizziness**

Malfoy regained consciousness slowly. He tried to open his eyes but it felt like the lids were weighed down. He felt stiff and uncomfortable and attempted to sit up, but didn't get very far as the ache in his back made him wince and a blinding dizziness overwhelmed him. He lay back down, recovering himself before moving again. He couldn't understand where he was. Whatever he was lying on felt cold and soggy. He eased his eyes open and blinked a few times. A bright grey screen hovered somewhere above him. He blinked again and the screen came into focus; he realised it was the sky, which meant he was outside.

He shook his head, trying to shake the memories to the forefront of his mind, only to receive sharp pains in various places on his face. Feeling a bit bruised and battered, he wondered if he had been in a fight, but after considering this possibility for all of two seconds, he deemed it impossible that he could lose a fight or that it could end so badly for him. He could hear rustling behind his head, and muffled voices.

He began to sit up; the aching in his back had slightly faded now. He figured he must have hurt it when he fell to the floor. He began to take note of his surroundings properly now. Although he still felt like he'd just woken up from an incredibly long sleep, the slightly dazed feeling was beginning to leave him and he remembered where he was.

Hogsmeade. He was in Hogsmeade. He went to the Post Office and the owls had attacked him so he ran. He had pelted down the lane as fast as he was able to until – smack! He had run face-first into something and been thrown onto his back. Into what though? Looking up, he couldn't see anything. Maybe he had just slipped on the slimy leaves.

He gingerly stood up and tested both of his legs. All of him seemed to be in working order and most of the pain in his back and face had subsided. He rolled his shoulders back and assumed the notorious Malfoy posture. The stance that showed everyone he was better than them; shoulders back, chest out, back straight, head up. He took off, wanting to get away from the disastrous spot quickly. He marched down the road, a smug smirk plastered on his face and an intimidating glare in his eyes, already pushing the whole incident to the back of his mind.

Unbeknown to him, Fred and George continued to tail him, extremely pleased that phase 3 of their plan had worked. As much as they had enjoyed Malfoy's girly screaming fit, it wasn't over yet. Not by a long way. Fred and George were just getting started.

What had appeared to be an invisible solid wall that Malfoy had walked into was actually a shield charm that George had silently cast ahead of them. Fred had then enchanted it with the Furnunculus jinx and Malfoy had walked straight into their little trap. He, however, was unaware of this as he continued to prance down the lane.

As Malfoy stepped into the small square at the end of the village, a first year Ravenclaw boy ran head long into him, followed shortly by his friend who was chasing him. They bounced of Malfoy's towering figure and tumbled to the ground.

'Watch where you're going!' He spat at them. He expected their eyes to widen as they looked up at him in fear, so was surprised when after glancing up at him they exchanged smirks and tried to stifle sniggers. He glared threateningly at them as they picked themselves up and walked away, but before they were even a few feet away they had dissolved into giggles.

Malfoy was fuming. He had no idea why they were laughing at him, but he intended to make sure they regretted it so much they would never laugh again. He ground his teeth furiously as he seethed, his eyes glinting with malice as he stormed across the little square, so angry he didn't care that the wind ruffled his hair and robes or that he was dragging his cloak through heaps of soggy leaves.

As he stamped towards the centre of the village, he passed a small shop selling potion ingredients and caught sight of his reflection in the grimy windows.

'What the..?' He leaned closer, not believing what he was seeing. Angry red boils had erupted all over his face. They were scattered across his cheeks and chin in ugly constellations with a very large one taking pride of place in the centre of his forehead. One particularly nasty looking one on his left cheek was swelling and spewing pus as he stood there. He reached his hand up to touch his face, still not quite believing his reflection could be true, but sure enough he felt the hideous red lump under his fingers followed shortly by a throbbing pain.

At this point he started to panic.

Fred and George stood behind him, enjoying themselves tremendously. They thought it would be difficult getting him to walk towards the village with the boils all over his face, but the stupid oaf hadn't even realised the pustules were there and had almost reached the village centre before he did, fortunately for them.

They were still covered by the Disillusionment Charms as they flanked him, a tricky spell that the twins had mastered as few months ago to give them a helping hand with some of their more intricate pranks, like this one for instance.

They could already see panic etched onto Malfoy's usually sneering features and really they had only just begun.


	9. Hood Up

**AN: Hey :) thanks to everyone for all the lovely reviews and for adding this story to your favourites! I really appreciate it :) And once again, thanks to my amazing beta skaterofthebooks.**

Just to clear something up: I'm from England so I write in the English Language (UK) and I know some words in the USA are spelt differently to how they are in English. For example, Americans spell **metre** as **meter** so if you're American and you're reading this I'm sorry but that's how we spell it :)

**The Prank That Delivered, Chapter 9: Hood Up**

Panic set in. Malfoy paced back and forth in front of the cobwebbed window, his mind working furiously. He had to get the blasted things off his face. If it was a curse though, he would need to know the counter-curse and he couldn't very well go and look it up when he looked like this. His other options were to go get someone to do it for him, but he would still risk embarrassment, or he could just attempt to get rid of them himself, but he wasn't completely sure of his magical capability in this area and didn't want to end up accidentally disfiguring his face even more.

His brain was going into overdrive; he needed to come up with a temporary solution before his head exploded. He stopped pacing and faced the window again. He pulled his hood up over his head and tried to cover as much of his face as possible but it was no use, the boils were still visible. Okay, he thought, let's try a different idea. A systematic approach always helped keep him calm.

He took his wand out of his pocket and waved it over his face, intending to make a mask appear but when he felt nothing appear on his face, he opened his eyes. He was astonished to see that, instead of his black hawthorn wand, he now held in his hand a large pink sparkly handbag, which looked like something a five year old girl, in a princess costume, would carry around.

Shock and bewilderment took over. His mind went blank for a few moments as he actually registered what had just happened. Once his brain had fully processed what he thought had taken place, he realised he was still holding the bag and dropped it as if it was scalding hot. Then remembering that it was originally his wand he picked it up again and stuffed it beneath his cloak, hoping against hope that it would magically turn back before he needed to use it again.

Aware that not much could be done about his face, he resorted to pulling his hood around him again and walking with his head down towards The Three Broomsticks hoping he could find a fellow Slytherin who wouldn't mind helping him out without laughing at him too much, although he didn't think that they existed.

Fred and George now struggled to control their laughter as they watched Malfoy stuff the pink glittery accessory out of sight. It was actually, contrary to what Malfoy thought, a Weasley Wizards Wheezes trick wand that they had switched with his real wand earlier after knocking it out of his hand in the corridor. Malfoy's real wand lay hidden at the bottom of George's bag. They couldn't believe he hadn't used his wand all morning. They wand swap was just a little extra joke on the side but now it seemed it would fit in perfectly with their master plan.

The twins stayed hot on Malfoy's heels as he skirted around the side of the square, trying to blend his thick cloak into the building walls as he headed for the main street where The Three Broomsticks was. Fred and George's minds were whirring as they calculated which route he was going to take. They had prepared three different ways to get him to the centre of the village depending on whether he headed back up to the post office, through the woods to the shrieking shack or round the outskirts of the village and back up to the school. However, now it seemed like the needed none of their techniques as he was heading there of his own accord.

They'd marked the three points along their routes that the next stages of the plan would happen, so now they were trying to determine where best they should perform the next phases without communicating out loud. George had decided that the passage that led out by the quidditch shop would be a good place to start. Luck must have been on their side, for he'd just made this assessment when Malfoy made an abrupt left turn and ventured down the pathway in question.

He and Fred shuffled as stealthily as they could behind the hooded figure. The tail of Malfoy's cloak billowed out behind him in the wind, the corners flapping over the flagstones like crow wings. Fred got a bit too close and accidentally stepped on the edge of it, but luckily Malfoy just though he had snagged it on the rough edges of the wall and had continued walking, huddled over, hunchback style. After nearly being discovered, the twins pursued more tentatively, ensuring they did not tread on his cloak again. George was so busy concentrating on where he was stepping he didn't notice that they were nearing the end of the alley until the sounds of students admiring the new nimbus model in the quidditch shop window could be heard.

George gave a small cough muffled by the 'Ooh's and 'Ahh's of the quidditch fans; signalling to Fred he was about to put the next phase into action. He glanced up to the end of the dark passage again. Twenty metres away. He had to get this done while they still had the cover of the shops either side. Sixteen metres. Malfoy moved closer to the wall, trying to become undetectable. Eleven metres. They were nearing the noisy street; soon they would be out in the open in the heart of the village. Eight metres. George raised his wand, preparing himself to cast one or two metres before they reached the lane. Six metres. His mind suddenly went blank. His heart beat rapidly. He panicked. Five metres. After all the preparation he wasn't able to remember the spell. The blood pounded in his ears. Four metres. Malfoy's footsteps seemed to speed up. He wanted to scream in frustration. Three metres. Now was their only chance. Two metres. Think, George Think! One metre.

'Densaugeo!'


	10. Bucktoothed

**AN: Here's the last chapter! An extra long one because I didn't know where to split it. I want to again thank my beta skaterofthebooks for being brilliant :) and thankyou to everyone who has reviewed or added this story to their favourites, it really makes my day :D **

**Thanks for reading and I hope you've enjoyed it!**

**The Prank That Delivered, Chapter 10: Buck-toothed**

This time Malfoy heard the spell being cast. He whirled around, hoping to catch his attacker in the act. Hastily he pulled out his wand, attempting to stop the spell from hitting him, but he was too late; already he could feel the spell taking affect.

At first his features were overcome with shock, his eyes large, round orbs in his gobsmacked face. Then his expression contorted in pain as his mouth stretched open, his eyes however were still straining to scan the shadows, seeking the spell's caster.

Eventually though, as his eyes began to water, he squeezed them closed, giving in to the throbbing pain.

Fred and George watched from mere footsteps away, trying to restrain the laughter spilling out of them at his comical expressions. However, when the spell took full effect, they had difficulty controlling themselves.

Malfoy's head was thrown back, his mouth wide open as if he were laughing. But the expression on his face told a different story and the twins knew he found nothing about the situation even slightly amusing. He was baring his small, white teeth at the Fred and George, grinding them together in agony. Then right before their eyes, his two front teeth seemed to swell. They stretched out over his lip, reaching out of his mouth and extending past his chin.

Malfoy bent double in pain as his teeth continued to spurt forward. Fred neatly sidestepped him and headed out across the street, weaving in and out of the clusters of students that littered the pavement, all the while keeping one eye on entrance to the passage where his red-headed ally and the buck-toothed, boil-covered boy remained hidden.

George prodded Malfoy forcefully with his wand and so Malfoy, reluctant to be on the receiving end of any more jinxes or curses, stepped away, staggering slightly under the weight of his new additions. His teeth had now reached his collar and were still growing, although at a slightly less rapid rate now. George jabbed the Slytherin again with his wand, causing him to step hastily backwards again and nearly losing his footing. Stumbled on the slippery cobbles, Malfoy kept his balance by clawing at the stone walls. He began scrabbling around in his pockets, pulling out the pink bag when he remembered the fate of his wand. George continued poking him and Malfoy continued to retreat until he was out of the passage and into the open, clutching the sparkly accessory in front of his chest as if hoping it could protect him.

He pulled his cloaked up around him and tried to hide his boil-covered face and chest-length front teeth. George grabbed him by the shoulders, delighting in the terrified look on Malfoy's face as he remembered he was still under the Disillusionment charm.

'That was for calling Hermione buck-toothed.' He hissed, his spit spraying across Malfoy's face. George gave him a firm push causing Malfoy to slip. He fell backwards onto the cold stone for the second time that day.

Fred watched as bypassing students came to a halt peering curiously at Malfoy as he lay sprawled out on the pavement. Groups of onlookers had gathered in nearby shop windows and Fred could see them whispering animatedly to each other as they craned their necks to see what the commotion was. Pushing his way through the small crowd surrounding Malfoy, Fred saw him quickly leap to his feet and try to shuffle out of the circle and away from all the spectators. However he was blocked by a still concealed George, who sent him spinning in the other direction, right towards Fred.

Aiming his wand at Malfoy Fred muttered, 'Tarantallegra!' quietly so he would not be overheard by the third years stood behind him.

The effect was immediate. Malfoy's legs started to move in a complicated quickstep, pulling him this way and that at a lively tempo. He nearly lost his balance trying to keep up with the speed at which his nimble feet were moving. They kicked and twirled beneath him, causing him to nearly topple over into a bunch of fourth year girls, who were in hysterics at his elaborate footwork. His fingers were only just managing to stay clasped around the handle of the bag which he still believed to be his wand, as his legs forced him to prance around in circles.

More and more students were gathering round Malfoy as his feet continued to tap to a beat it appeared only he could hear. His face held a look of great intensity as if he was trying, be sheer will power, to stop his feet from moving. Beads of sweat, caused by his vigorous concentration, appeared on his brow and made their way down his blushing cheeks.

After a few minutes, George took pity on the poor guy and decided to end his exhaustion. 'Impedimenta!' He cried, quite forgetting he was meant to be invisible and causing heads to turn towards him at the sound of his voice. But the onlooker were not distracted for long as the spell had cause Malfoy to freeze mid-sashay, resulting in him being stuck in a rather hilarious position.

With one foot out to the side, mid-kick and his toes pointed daintily, his bottom half looked like a ballerina's, however he was glaring furiously at his feet and had his hands balled into fists and outstretched on either side of him as if searching for the power to make his feet stop. In his right hand the pink bag still swung much to the amusement of the Weasley twins and the other Hogwarts students.

One daring fifth-year Gryffindor ran up and poked Malfoy in the side. When this brought no reaction from him the crowd laughed. A group of mischievous Gryffindor second years began throwing leaves at him and a couple hurled insults towards him, but most of the students were in hysterics. In fact the only one who wasn't enjoying himself was probably Malfoy, who was feeling a mixture of embarrassment and rage.

Fred and George simultaneously took their disillusionment charms off and took sweeping bows, to the roar of the crowd. Harry, Ron and Hermione ran over at once when they realised who was behind the masterful plan. Hermione, with a disapproving look on her face, but boys offered the twins hearty congratulations on their incredible prank.

Lee Jordan came jogging over with Angelina Johnson, both with admiring looks on their faces as Lee yelled, 'Three cheers for Fred and George!' and the crowd erupted with yells and applause.

Students were still laughing long after they had left Hogsmeade and were making their way back up towards the castle.

When Malfoy entered the Great Hall for dinner that night, Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws alike, let rip loud guffaws and chortled heartily till their sides ached and tears ran down their face. They finally gained control of themselves before the food was served. Although every now and then someone would catch sight of Malfoy and burst into laughter all over again at the recollection of him stood in the centre of Hogsmeade as a frozen ballerina with a glittery handbag came back to them.

'Definitely one of our best yet, George' stated Fred, a smug smile plastered on his face

'Definitely Fred!' George agreed whole-heartedly, 'Did you see his face?' He exclaimed and they burst in to fresh peals of laughter as they recalled the look of complete terror on the usually superior and haughty Slytherin's face. They headed back towards the common room after dinner was over, still hooting with laughter and knowing that this one would be told and retold for years to come.


End file.
